The Murder Of Two Men By A Young Kid Wearing Lemon-colored Gloves

And all that is this day. . . The boy with cap slung over what had been a face. .. Somehow the cop will sleep tonight, will make love to his wife…

Tiny green birds skate over the surface of the room. A naked girl prepares a basin with steaming water, And in the corner away from the hearth, the red Of an up-ended chariot slowly turn.

That should be Of course it Any fool knows that. Even in the winter.

Speak softly; sun going Out of sight. Come near me now. Dear dying fall of wings as birdscomplain against the gathering dark…Exaggerate the green blood in grass;

These of living emanate a formidable light, Which is equal to death, and when used Gives increase eternally. What fortifies in separate thought Is not drawn by wind or by man defiled. So whispers the parable of doubleness.

The sleds of the children Move down the right slope. To the left, hazed in the tumbling air, A thousand lights smudge Within the branches of the old forest, Like colored moons in a well of milk.

Let us have madness openly. O men Of my generation. Let us follow The footsteps of this slaughtered age:

Wherever the dead are there they are Nothing more. But you and I can To see angels in the meadowgrass that